Joe was our neighbor but he meant much more to me and my brother. He is a big part of my memories of home and my childhood. Even at a very young age mom would walk us around the block on our big wheel bikes and stop to talk to Joe and Shirley. I also have memories of mom tending to the front garden and I would play with my brother. We would then take off on our bikes (mine with tassels and training wheels) down the sidewalk hearing her shout “don’t go beyond Joe and Shirley’s house.” Joe would usually be sitting in his driveway relaxing and mom knew he would watch us and make sure we were safe. As the neighborhood kids got older we would ride our bikes around the cul-de-sac. Stopping by Joe and Shirley’s to say “hello” and play a game of pachinko was always on our agenda. All the kids could be seen circling their bikes around Joe in his chair, how did we not make him dizzy?! Forever patient and kind, he would chat and then send us on our way with a big bag of oranges from his tree. Coming home from college for laundry and food I would take for granted my drive by wave to Joe, Shirley, and all the other neighbors that would congregate their chairs for an afternoon break. What a lucky childhood to be surrounded by such a caring neighborhood. Joe was always the stable image in my mind. I miss waving to him as I pass the house but have a childhood full of memories to share with my husband as we pass by to visit my folks.
